When I got the call to join the USS Barry for a ride off the Atlantic seaboard last week, I expected to meet a staff burdened by duty and unhappy with how the country is dumping money into new technology on trouble-ridden ships.

Instead I met a crew of sailors who worked 12 to 16 hour days without complaint.

I've never seen a group of people work so hard to make the most of what they had. The Barry seemed to belong to them and come what may, they would not fail her.

I'm an Army veteran, not a sailor, but I'll be damned if by the time we pulled back into port, I didn't have a lot more respect for the Navy.

The Navy picked me up at 5:00 a.m. from a Norfolk motel and delivered us to a water taxi bound for the USS Barry by 7:00

Once aboard, sleeping assignments were provided — the top right bunk was mine. Dozens of enlisted sailors sleep down here, and the nights were filled with cellphone alarms.

We'd arrived far too late for breakfast in the mess hall. This is the only space on the ship where hats must be removed because during conflict it serves as a medical ward with bodies laid on the tables. Removing caps shows respect for the dead.

The first sailor I talked to works in the sonar control room listening for submarines. I asked him if he hears whales like in "The Hunt For Red October" and he laughed, saying yes, "But I can't tell you anything about them aside from their size."

From the sonar room I head to see the ship's Engineering Officer who oversees the Barry's full array of power systems. Until just this year that panel of monitors to his right was a bank of dials, knobs, and buttons — one of the many system upgrades as the vessel's life is extended.

In Engineering I meet Chief Francis who is transferring from the enlisted ranks to Warrant Officer. He joined the Navy 18 years ago at 17 and says the only thing he doesn't love about serving is being away from his family.

After leaving the Chief's Mess I met Petty Officer 1st Class Carr who's in the middle of an intense six week program leading up to the promotion of Chief. She enlisted in the Navy at 16 with her father's permission. The wooden box is a "Vessel" carried by all potential Chiefs.

The Captain here in his chair on the bridge doesn't often make it to meals — doesn't often make it to bed either — catching maybe four or five hours of sleep a night

The Captain is waiting for the anchor test to conclude. At several thousand pounds the anchor is attached to the ship by a chain with links weighing almost 40 pounds apiece and here it is being snapped from a free-fall into hundreds of feet of water.

And find the racks that hold missiles during deployment

They're right next to the missile launching system here, that delivered 55 Tomahawk missiles into Libya last year

With the day wearing on I head back inside the ship and am reminded of what the crew knows at all times: this vessel is designed to go to war. In a chemical/biological/radiological (CBR) environment, not even the toilet can be used.

The Board Room

Editors' Picks

I served on the comissioning crew of USS Barry DDG-52. I am as proud of that today as when we sailed away for the first time. It was great seeing all those pictures and glad to see the men and women abooard taking such good care of her. Her decks and superstructure are all steel, that makes many hours preserving and repairing what the ocean wants to destroy. More time at sea means less time in port to repair things, we spend 70% of our time at sea and I bet things have not changed. GSM1 George McSwain DDG-52 Plankowner